


Moments in Time

by mrsfizzle



Series: Raising a Mutant [2]
Category: DCU, Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cute, Cute Kids, Drama, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Rags to Riches, Romance, Whump, like very little romance though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsfizzle/pseuds/mrsfizzle
Summary: Related one-shots in the universe where Lex is adopted by the Kents at the age of 13. Sequel to Raising a Mutant.MOST RECENT CHAPTER: Five times Onyx comforted Lex (and one time he comforted her)
Relationships: Clark Kent & Jonathan Kent, Clark Kent & Lex Luthor, Clark Kent & Martha Kent, Jonathan "Pa" Kent & Lex Luthor, Jonathan "Pa" Kent/Martha Kent, Lex Luthor/OC, Martha Kent & Lex Luthor
Series: Raising a Mutant [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051730
Comments: 65
Kudos: 25





	1. The Baker

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel of sorts to my Comfortember series, "Raising a Mutant." It's a series of related, short one-shots in that universe. Some will be set between the final chapter and the epilogue of "Raising a Mutant," while others will be set after the epilogue. They will not necessarily be posted in chronological order, so I'll be sure to give time stamps as needed, as well as providing the characters' ages.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark decides to surprise Lex on his birthday. He has no idea how to bake a cake, but that's not going to stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> February, 1994 (Clark is 6, Lex is 14)

Everything had to be perfect.

Clark woke up before everyone else did, and he tiptoed down to the kitchen. Lex was 14 today. Clark didn't have any money to buy a present, and he'd already drawn him so many pictures that the drawer in his bedroom desk was full. Today, he was going to make a cake all by himself.

He went over to the cabinet where Mom kept her recipe book. He was getting better at reading, so he was pretty sure he could follow the directions. When Mom was cooking, she usually just dumped spices into the pot without measuring them.

The first part was a list of ingredients, with cup measurements. Clark didn't really know how to measure ingredients, but he was pretty sure it didn't matter too much, as long as all the right ingredients were there and he mixed them up enough.

_? the oven to 350._

Clark didn't know what that first word was. It started with a P. He thought about asking Mom for help, but he didn't want to—he could do it by himself. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to use the oven, but it wasn't like it could burn him. He climbed up onto the counter and started pressing buttons on the oven. It didn't look like anything was happening, but then the number came on the screen! Perfect.

 _?_ _a 9-inch pan._

Another word Clark didn't know, it started with a G. Hopefully that step wasn't too important. He also didn't know how big 9 inches was, so he pulled out the pan Mom usually used to fry bacon. That should be big enough.

_Stir together the sugar, flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl._

Clark could read all of those words! He looked through the cabinets and put everything in the middle of the floor, then found a big bowl and a wooden spoon.

He tasted the sugar first. It was really good! That would make the cake taste good, so he filled up half of the bowl with sugar.

The flour didn't taste as good. He wasn't sure how much to put in. At the top, it said "2 cups," so he went to get his favorite dinosaur cup and filled it up twice.

The lid on the cocoa powder was stuck. Clark ended up having to use a little bit of his super strength to get it off, but then it flew across the room, and cocoa powder flew everywhere! The floor, some of the cabinets were covered, and all over Clark. Some of it got in the cake, too, though, and that was the important part.

The baking soda, baking powder, and salt all tasted GROSS! He just put a little bit in. He knew salt was really good on potatoes, so he put a little extra of the salt. Then, he stirred it all up, only spilling a little over the side of the bowl.

_Add the milk, eggs, oil, and ?_

Mom always said the milk jug was heavy—Clark didn't have any problem lifting it, but it was awkward to pour, and he ended up spilling some of it over the side. He made sure to put in lots of milk, since that would make Mom happy—she was always bugging him to drink his milk.

The eggs were a much bigger problem. He had no idea how to crack eggs. He experimented with a couple of them on the floor, but the shells just got crushed into a million pieces. He finally decided to just crush the egg in his hand and then try to take out as much of the shell as he could when it was in the cake. He took out the biggest pieces, then hid the other ones under the other ingredients so no one would see them. He checked the list at the top—it said 2 eggs, so he did that twice.

He was surprised to see oil on the list. The week before, Dad was showing him how he changed the oil in his car. Clark didn't know the oil was a food ingredient! But actually, that made sense—it was what the car ate. Also gasoline. But this recipe didn't have any gasoline in it. Clark snuck out to the garage to get the oil, and he poured some of it into the bowl.

Finally, that last word. It started with a V. He looked around for awhile for ingredients that started with V, and found a bottle of clear liquid that smelled like the stuff Mom used to dye easter eggs. Maybe that meant it would make the cake look pretty. He poured in a bunch.

Back to the recipe:

_Mix for two minutes on medium speed._

Clark could do that. He used the wooden spoon and mixed up the ingredients. He went a little too fast at first and splashed a bunch onto one of the cabinets, but he slowed down after that. They smelled really weird. Mostly like cocoa powder, but also kind of like the garage. But that was just because the cake wasn't done yet.

He poured the batter into the pan—not all of it fit, so he just filled the pan up to the top—then he put the pan in the oven. He tripped on the bag of flour on the way over, and some of the flour sprayed across the room, but he didn't spill too much of the batter onto the front of the oven, so it was okay.

 _Bake for 30 to 35 minutes_.

Mom had showed Clark how to use the kitchen timer, but he couldn't remember, so he would just have to take the cake out when it felt like it had been 30 minutes.

Clark stepped back and looked around the kitchen. Mom always said a messy kitchen was the sign of a happy home. Their home was the _happiest!_

* * *

Martha had heard Clark clambering out of bed and down the stairs before the crack of dawn. That boy was about as sneaky as an elephant. She wasn't sure what he was up to, though she figured it had something to do with surprising Lex. She snuggled up next to Jonathan and decided to give it an hour.

Forty-five minutes later, she was starting to smell something awfully strange. Martha kissed Jonathan on the cheek and went down to the kitchen.

She was not expecting what she found. There was batter all over one cabinet and the front of the oven, cocoa powder all across another cabinet, spilled milk tracked all over the floor, and a few crushed eggs by the refrigerator. Scattered around the floor were typical baking ingredients—flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and, for some reason, motor oil. And Clark, right in the middle of it in his pajamas, covered in cocoa powder and grinning ear to ear.

She took a deep breath, counted backwards from ten in her head, and forced her tone to remain pleasant. "Clark? What's this?"

"I'm surprising Lex!" He jumped up onto his feet and bounced on his toes. "I made him a cake! Because he's the best big brother ever and I want to be the best little brother ever!"

Her heart positively melted.

"Only . . . I forgot to make a frosting."

She scooped up her precious boy in her arms—he was getting too big to be picked up, but she wanted to enjoy every moment while she still could. "You've worked really hard this morning. Why don't you go out and visit with the horses, and I'll take care of the frosting? Dad will be out pretty soon, and you can start on chores."

"Okay! But Lex doesn't have to do any chores today, right? Because it's his birthday."

"That's true. He might come out anyway." Martha doubted it would be very soon, though—their teenager would sleep until 1 in the afternoon if he was allowed. She set Clark down and gave him a pat on the back. "Go."

He scurried out of the house. As soon as he was gone, she set to work cleaning the kitchen and baking a new cake. She took the mess Clark had made out of the oven—she did the best she could cleaning out her frying pan, but was pretty sure it would never be the same.

Jonathan came downstairs while the cake was baking. She gave him the short version of what had happened, and he laughed and kissed her before going out to begin work for the day.

The cake was cooling, and Martha was working on making frosting, when Lex came down into the kitchen, eyes still puffy from sleep.

"Morning, sweetheart."

"Morning, Martha."

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks." He gave a slight smile, and she went over to hug him. He didn't like it much when she tried to hug him around his friends, but at home, he gripped onto her tightly, almost like he was afraid she was going to disappear.

"Clark tried to make you a cake this morning."

Lex's eyes widened. "Oh no. How did that go?"

"Had to throw it away. I made that one." She nodded over to her own cake. "But I trust you can keep my secret? He really wanted to be the one to surprise you."

Lex nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good." She gestured toward to door. "Go out and see your little brother."

"No chores, though?"

"No chores for you today."

He grinned, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and darted out of the door.

* * *

With the frosting, the cake looked even better than Clark had imagined, and it tasted amazing. Mom and Dad were so proud of him, and Lex was so happy. He said it was the best birthday he'd ever had. That made Clark's eyes feel all prickly.

Clark had no idea he was such a good baker. He couldn't _wait_ to surprise his mom on Mother's Day!


	2. Five times Lex Luthor didn't trust Martha Kent (and one time he did)

_1_

About a month after Lex's adoption was finalized, Martha started giving him a little more responsibility around the house. They'd relieved him of some of his farm chores so he could settle into eighth grade, since the chores tired him out and would have made it difficult for him to get his homework done, but she still wanted him to feel like he was able to contribute to the household.

So she was washing dishes, and Lex was drying them and putting them away. She was caught up in what she was doing and didn't notice that Lex was a bit more tired than usual until there was a loud crash behind her.

Martha turned around. Glass shards covered the floor. Lex stood in shock, hand out in front of him as though he were still holding the glass he'd dropped.

"Oh, what happened?" She took a couple of steps toward him.

He cringed, holding his hands out in front of his face, eyes squeezed shut.

She stopped in her tracks. "Lex, I'm not gonna hurt you. It was an accident." She didn't like the way that had come out—it seemed to imply she might hurt him if he'd done it on purpose. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Ever."

Slowly, he lowered his hands and straightened up, but his cheeks reddened.

She didn't say anything else about it. He was embarrassed enough. Instead, she simply taught him how to clean up the shards of broken glass safely, and they continued putting away the dishes together. He was stiff the whole time, his face bright red.

When they'd finished with all of the dishes, she reached toward him with open arms. He flinched just slightly, but she pulled him into a soft embrace and hugged him for as long as he let her.

* * *

_2_

"Hey, sweetie, we need to talk."

Martha watched the blood drain away from Lex's face as she said the words. He had come home from school in such a good mood, Martha was hesitant to ruin it. But they'd warned him.

She stood in the doorway of his bedroom, and he sat in his desk chair, frozen.

"W-what's wrong?" he asked.

"It's not a big thing. It's just, this morning, you forgot to put the milk away again."

His eyes widened. "I'm so sorry, Martha."

"I know, but this is the third time this week. You remember what I said last time."

He pulled his knees into his chest and gripped at his head with tense fingers. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath. "Please . . . I'll never forget again. I won't."

Martha frowned. She'd told him he was going to be in trouble if he kept leaving the milk out, but she didn't give him any specifics. Now, though, she wondered if she had been wrong to leave so much to his imagination. She sighed—even after six months in their home, Lex didn't trust his new parents not to abuse him.

Martha made a mental note to check in with Lex's therapist about how to handle these types of situations. Today, though, she couldn't imagine assigning even the smallest punishment to him while he was in this state.

"Okay, Lex, breathe." She knelt in front of him and reached up to squeeze his shoulder. "It's okay. Just try to remember next time, okay?"

He nodded, and his breathing slowed.

* * *

_3_

Martha couldn't take any more of her boys arguing. She was trying to finish the accounting for the farm at the kitchen table. Lex sat reading a book across from her, and Clark had pestered Lex to play with him about a thousand times.

"Clark," Martha said, "go find something to do by yourself for a little while. Lex, finish the chapter you're on, then go play with your brother."

Lex was clearly immersed in his book. He didn't even look up. "I don't want to play with him. I'm tired of pretending to play basketball with someone who could win every time if he actually tried, and I'm sick of pretending to lose at checkers to someone who can't figure out which way the pieces go."

Clark's lower lip trembled, and he ran out of the room, covering his eyes with his forearm as he went, shoulders hitching. Lex still didn't look up from his book; Martha wondered if he had any idea how much he had hurt his little brother. Martha knew he'd been struggling with bullies at the high school, and he was only acting out because of that, but he also needed to know that what he was doing was unacceptable. Jonathan would probably be able to get through to him better than she would. Besides, she needed to go comfort her younger son.

Martha stood from her chair, stalked over to Lex, and took the book from his hands.

"Hey, I'll lose my place—"

She slammed the book down on the table. "You march up to your bedroom _right now_ , Alexander Luthor, and wait for Jonathan to come up and deal with you." It might be a long wait—Jonathan wasn't due to come back in for lunch for another hour—but that served him right for the way he'd spoken to his little brother.

His response was immediate. His eyebrows shot up, and he fell to his knees in front of her, gripping onto the front of her shirt with one hand.

"No, no, no, I'm sorry, Martha, I'm _sorry_ , don't make me!" Tears filled his eyes. " _Please_. I'll be good, I promise, I'll do whatever you want. _Please!_ "

She swallowed hard and gently pried Lex's hand away from her shirt, taking his trembling hand in hers. She wanted to ask him what he thought Jonathan was going to do, but she already had some ideas, based on his past. The problem was, she really didn't want to back down, and his therapist had said it wouldn't necessarily be good for him if she did. Lex needed to learn that the worst thing Jonathan was going to do to him was give him a lecture and maybe some extra chores. He also needed to learn that he couldn't treat Clark like that and expect nothing to happen.

Part of her worried that he was coming to trust them even less than he had when he'd arrived. She had never seen him so panicked over the promise of discipline, though she'd never sent him up to wait for Jonathan, either. Then again, maybe the begging was a sign of progress. She doubted he would have begged Lionel; he would have known it was useless.

"He's not going to hurt you." Martha forced herself to keep her voice firm. "He's just going to talk to you. Now go up to your room."

Lex trudged away toward the stairs, wiping at his eyes. Martha sighed and followed behind a minute later, heading into Clark's room first. She picked up the sobbing boy in her arms and rocked him for a moment, murmuring assurances that Lex didn't mean what he said, before taking him with her to go talk to Jonathan. Lex couldn't wait an hour for Jonathan to come into the house. The boy needed to be disciplined, but if they made him wait, he was going to hyperventilate until he passed out.

As Martha walked, she combed her fingers through Clark's hair, kissed his forehead, and cursed Lionel under her breath.

* * *

_4_

Despite his run-ins with school bullies, Lex was doing quite well at Smallville High. His teachers had mostly good things to say about him, at least academically—some were more ruffled by the boy's tendency to call them out on mistakes than others were, but Martha figured that they could work on tact. As long as he wasn't being blatantly disrespectful, she wasn't too worried.

It surprised her when he hid his report card at the end of the first semester.

Martha knew he'd done it because she knew exactly when report cards were supposed to come out, and for the week leading up to that day, Lex was unexpectedly helpful about bringing in the mail for her.

She didn't mince words with him. She called him down to the living room and asked point blank, "Where's your report card?"

He gave her a look of obviously-fake confusion. He wasn't as good at lying as he thought he was. "How would I know?"

She took his chin in her hand. "Don't play games with me, Alexander Luthor."

He cringed. "I didn't want you to get mad at me."

"Then hiding your report card was a very bad decision. Go get it."

He paused only a moment before getting up and disappearing up the stairs. He came back and held it out to her. She gestured for him to sit beside him on the couch, and she opened the envelope.

All A's, except for one B in history.

Martha looked up at Lex, bewildered. "This is a good report card. Why would you think we'd be upset?"

"My history grade."

She frowned down at the singular B. She wouldn't have thought much of it, but history was usually his favorite subject. "Well, that is unusual for you. What do you think happened?"

"I failed an essay because I . . . didn't exactly follow the prompt like he wanted me to. It pushed my grade down."

"Why didn't you follow the directions?"

"Because the prompt was wrong."

She nodded slowly. If the failed essay had pushed him down to a D or F, she would have asked him to talk to his teacher about it, and she might have offered to accompany him for the conversation. As it was, they could talk about that later. She was more concerned about the fact that he still hadn't figured out they weren't going to abuse him. "This is a _good_ report, sweetie. I'm proud of you."

Lex looked away, but he smiled, ever so slightly. "So, I'm not in trouble?"

"Not for your grades. We're going to take you out for ice cream." She kissed the top of his head. "But not this weekend. You're grounded for hiding the report." That was the standard sentence for lying in their household.

Lex lowered his head.

* * *

_5_

Martha had heard horror stories from her friends who were raising teenagers. She was never quite sure what they were talking about. At fifteen, Lex was _amazing_. He rarely complained about doing his chores, he helped Clark with his homework, and he was usually very sweet and respectful.

He did miss his curfew once, which had Martha tearing her hair out with worry. After talking it over and debating whether to go easy on him because it was his first infraction, Martha and Jonathan decided to make a statement instead. They decided to ground him and give him extra chores for two whole weeks. They figured it might be kinder to deal with his misbehavior exactly once, than have to punish him repeatedly.

When Lex came home, they talked to him about how worried they'd been and how much they loved him until tears filled his eyes. They explained that he was forgiven, but that there were still consequences for his actions, and they gave him his sentence.

Lex looked hurt, and he spent some time alone in the barn the next day, after which he returned to the house with swollen eyes and red cheeks. Other than that, though, he didn't complain about the grounding. He was fairly quiet for the duration of the two weeks, but he didn't resist the extra chores, and he didn't ask for an early reprieve, even when the grounding ran through a party he'd been looking forward to. When his grounding ended, Martha and Jonathan had one last talk with Lex before releasing him, and they each gave him a long hug and reminded him, again, that he was forgiven.

Lex didn't smile, and he stiffened instead of hugging back. A couple of days later, Martha found him out in the barn. He was still doing all of the extra chores they'd assigned to him while he was grounded, and he still wasn't spending any time with his friends after school.

"Lex." She came and put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to do this."

"I was bad," he muttered, and started working even harder.

"You made a mistake, but you've already paid for it. It's over, sweetie. We told you, we forgive you. Do you not believe us?"

He shrugged and continued working.

* * *

_+1_

Martha never thought she'd be the kind of mom who would get upset with her son over a grade that was less than an A, but Lex quickly proved what he was capable of. Any more than one or two B's meant he was slacking off in class, not doing his homework, or talking back to his teachers.

During his sophomore year, his first quarter report card came in with two A's, four B's, and one C.

She didn't scold him about his grades right away—they'd have that conversation later. The party he wanted to go to was more important to discuss. Martha knew the party host's parents—they were out of town this weekend. Nothing good was going to happen if he went.

"You're not going to that party," she told him.

"Yes, I am. I already told my friends I would."

"Well, you didn't ask me first. Besides, you have homework to do."

"It's Friday night! I can do it tomorrow."

"No, you won't. You have chores, and riding practice, and your little brother is going to want to play with you."

"Sunday, then."

"You're not putting your homework off until the last minute to go to a party. Your grades are slipping."

"They're almost all A's and B's!"

"And can you honestly tell me you've been doing the absolute best you can in school?"

Lex rolled his eyes.

She crossed her arms. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, young man. I expect more from you, Alexander, or you can spend _every_ Friday evening at home until your grades pick up."

Lex looked away, and spat out a foul word under his breath, clearly directed at her.

Martha's jaw dropped.

She knew she should be angry. Her own mother would have washed out her mouth with soap for that kind of language, and Jonathan's would have slapped him across the mouth.

But Martha felt no anger. Her throat choked up, and she had to fight to contain her elation. This was far from the first time Lex had mouthed off to her, but it was the first time he'd held onto his rebellion even after she'd threatened him, and it was _definitely_ the first time he'd sworn at her. Any other mother would be livid with his behavior, but she hadn't been this happy in a long time.

Her son trusted her. _Finally_ , he felt safe. _Finally_ , she could deal with this the way she needed to without worrying about whether he'd believe she loved him when it was over.

She swallowed her euphoria, raised her eyebrows, and breathed to give him a tongue-lashing he'd never forget.


	3. The Lawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his eighteenth birthday, Lex receives an unexpected bit of news about his deceased father's estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> February, 1998 (Lex is 18, Clark is 10)

Lex was used to lawyers and reporters by the time his eighteenth birthday rolled around.

Reporters had always flocked around him at Excelsior, especially when his mother died. Lawyers approached him throughout the appeals on Lionel's prison sentence, and the Kents helped Lex to navigate each situation. And when Lionel killed himself in prison, lawyers and reporters called in daily and made their way to the farm.

Jonathan kicked people out of the house right and left, sometimes threatening violence, and he became as skilled at identifying them as Lex was. On the rare occasion anyone managed to get through their defenses, Martha always gave Lex a long hug after their conversations—it wasn't exactly traumatic for him, but he hated talking to them.

Lex probably should have expected a lawyer to show up on his eighteenth birthday, but it had been a long time, and it was the furthest thing from his mind.

"I'm looking for an Alexander Luthor?" the lawyer said when Lex answered the door. He was asking a stupid question—Lex was all too easily identifiable.

"Who are you?" Lex asked. Also a stupid question. The man reeked of his profession. The cologne, the suit, the sneer, even the voice.

Lex heard heavy footsteps on the staircase behind him, then Jonathan's voice: "What do you want?"

"A private meeting with young Mr. Luthor. It should take no more than a few minutes."

"He's a minor, and we're his legal parents. We have the right to be there for any meeting you call with him."

"Actually, you don't. Mr. Luthor is eighteen, as of today."

"Well, since he's an adult, he has the right to insist—"

"Jonathan, it's okay," Lex said. "Could you give us a minute?"

Jonathan scowled. "You call for me the minute you need me," he said, and he headed back up the stairs.

Lex nodded for the lawyer to enter, and he closed the door behind him and took him into the living room. They sat down on the couch.

"I apologize that this is so sudden. Your father's instructions were very clear, he—"

"If we're going to have this conversation, I want to make one thing very clear. Lionel Luthor is not my father. Jonathan Kent is."

The lawyer frowned. "I find it curious that you never changed your name."

Lex didn't feel the need to explain his personal life choices to a stranger. "What's this about?"

"Your inheritance."

"I have no inheritance. All accounts with Lionel's name on them were dissolved."

"Almost all. This trust fund had your name." The lawyer swung his briefcase onto his lap and clicked it open, then he took out an envelope and handed it to Lex. "The account information, as well as the current balance."

Lex's jaw pulsed before he took the envelope and opened it with his fingers. The balance made him lose his breath for a moment.

Over thirty million.

Lex put the paper back into the envelope and held it out to the lawyer. "Not interested."

The lawyer didn't even look down at the paper. "That's not my problem."

"I don't want anything that belonged to Lionel Luthor."

"Then ignore it. Give it away. I don't care. I'm just a messenger." The lawyer snapped his briefcase shut and left the house.

Lex swallowed. It was more than not wanting anything of his biological father's. He didn't like what wealth did to people, or to their relationships. Jonathan and Martha's view of him would change if he suddenly had eight digits in the bank account, as would Clark's—they wouldn't be able to help it. Lex could never hope for another real friendship. He couldn't get married; he could never trust a woman to be truly uninterested in his money.

Jonathan came down the stairs as soon as the door closed. He turned to Lex, who sat on the couch, envelope in his hand. "What was that about?"

"Just an obligatory visit to let me know what's left of Lionel's estate."

"Ah. Anything interesting?"

Despite years of having honesty drilled into him, Lex shook his head. "No, not really."

* * *

Lex had every intention of forgetting about the money, until his acceptance letter came in from Metropolis University. He had earned a full merit scholarship, which seemed wildly unfair to the next-highest-achieving student who didn't make the cut.

Lex knew Jonathan had called a financial advisor he trusted a couple of times when the farm was struggling. When the Kents were out, Lex found the phone number and set up a confidential meeting.

They met in a little office building at the edge of Smallville. Lex told him about the account, and then he cut right to the chase: "Is it possible to keep this a secret?"

"In theory, yes," the advisor told him. "But you're going to have a _very_ difficult time."

"How do I prevent people from finding out?"

"You have to live like you don't have the money."

It sounded easy enough.

* * *

Lex met with a few members of the financial aid committee at the university in confidence to discuss what should be done with his scholarship funds. They told him the award wasn't need-based, and he could keep it if he wanted, but he declined. Under the circumstances, they agreed to apply Lex's scholarship funds to the runner up, but still officially consider Lex a merit scholarship winner in their documentation. Lex just needed to know that the programs at graduation would mention the scholarship; that was the only way to keep his family out of the dramas and dangers of his wealth.

Meanwhile, the Kents' financial advisor set Lex up with some low-stakes, low-gain investments that would maintain the value of the account. The advisor him that if he spent less than a million a year, the account would never lose much of its value, but admonishing him that he'd be hard pressed to hide it if he spent more than a hundred thousand a year.

That was fine with Lex, but over the years, he found ways to spend the money in ways that weren't obvious. In college, he bought a car that looked nice to him and was reliable, but was made by an overseas company that people wouldn't easily associate with the car's six-digit price tag. After graduation, Lex started a non-profit medical research company, and claimed a few million in anonymous startup donations. Most people had no idea how much it costed to start up that kind of company, or how difficult it was to secure initial donations, so people didn't bat an eyelash. And when Lex bought an engagement ring for Anastasia—who was still in the dark about how he could afford everything he did—he went for a medium-sized diamond, but made sure it was the highest-quality stone money could buy.

Aside from that, Lex made a habit of treating friends to meals, though he was respectful if they declined and grateful if they insisted on treating him instead. He enjoyed giving gifts to friends and family, and he frequently found himself shrugging and telling his parents "I got a good deal" when they asked how he had managed to afford a particular gift. He was also generous with his employees, though he found that in the long run, this usually earned him more money than it lost him.

He dressed simply, as did his family, and gave his kids no more in Christmas or birthday presents than their grandparents did. The Luthors lived in a house the size of the Kents' home, and their family took no more lavish vacations than the average family in the area.

But sometimes, one of the Kents's friends would unexpectedly find their medical bills cancelled. And occasionally, a student at Smallville High who had been kind to Clark would discover they'd won a scholarship they didn't remember applying for—it happened to Clark himself, too. And once in awhile, a struggling family who was doing generous work in the community would receive a message that their mortgage had been paid in full. Most of them never found out what had happened.

And once every year or two, Lex would leave his kids at the Kent farm, whisk his wife away to a private island, and pamper her with delicacies, fine wines, expensive jewelry and other gifts, spa treatments, and the softest sands and clearest skies in the world. Anastasia always told him that he didn't have to spoil her, that she would enjoy the time with him just as much regardless of where they were, but Lex felt perfectly justified in every dollar he spent those weekends. She was worth every penny.


	4. Uncle Clark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark spends the weekend with his three-year-old niece, Martha Nicole Luthor, who is absolutely her father's daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July, 2009 (Lex is 29, Clark is 22. Also, Jonathan is not dead, because no one needs that cold dose of depressing in this fluffy fic.)

Clark was up two hours earlier than usual to make sure he got all of his chores done. He didn't want to have to think about it while his niece was around. This was far from the first time Clark had babysat his niece—who everyone called by her middle name, Nicole, since having two Marthas around quickly proved to be more confusing than it was worth—but it was the first time he'd have her for an entire weekend. It was the first getaway Lex and Anastasia had had since Nicole was born, more than three years ago.

Of course, Nicole was staying at Clark's parents' house, but his parents weren't as able to keep with a three-year-old as they were when Clark was a toddler. So when Nicole came to stay with them, Clark took on most of the responsibility in entertaining and caring for the little one. He was perfectly fine with that.

While Anastasia was pregnant, Clark had had a talk with Lex about when would be the right time to tell Nicole about his powers. Lex said he could tell her whenever he wanted to.

Clark was astonished by this. "Won't she tell people?"

Lex just shrugged. "Probably. She'll tell her friends at daycare that her uncle can lift a tractor, and another little girl will claim her dad can lift a house, and another will say her grandpa can lift the world. Her teachers will love it. By the time she's old enough to be taken seriously, she'll be old enough to keep a secret."

Clark had never gotten to show off his abilities to a child before. To his surprise, though, Nicole wasn't really impressed with his strength or speed on their own; he had to use them to entertain her if he wanted to capture her attention.

Clark was just finishing the last of his chores when Lex's car pulled up. Lex opened the door to the backseat to get Nicole out of her carseat, while Anastasia went straight over to Clark. She gave him a bright smile and a quick hug.

"Hey Anna," he said.

"Hey Clark. Thanks so much for doing this."

Clark grinned first at her, then down at his niece, who Lex was letting down onto the ground. She wore her overalls with the little purple flowers over a green-striped shirt, and a worn straw hat sat lopsided over messy blond curls.

Nicole ran directly over to Clark, bouncing on her toes and lifting her arms, blue-green eyes wide. "Uncle Cark! Make me fy!"

Clark picked up the little girl and turned her sideways, jogging zigzags and making plane noises while she put her arms out in front of her and shrieked with laughter. When her squeals turned into pants, he brought her back to her parents and set her down.

Anastasia knelt down in front of Nicole. "You're going to be a good girl and do everything Uncle and Nana and Papa tell you to do, right?"

"I _know_ , Mommy."

Lex walked with Clark a couple of steps away from them. "You have all of our numbers," he said. "If _anything_ happens—"

"I'll call you."

Lex nodded. "She's still taking naps after lunch. She doesn't wet the bed anymore."

"I know."

"Her bedtime is seven-thirty, but we let her listen to music until eight. Be extra careful if you take her near the horses, she'll pull at their tails. Make sure she eats her veggies, she _will_ fight you on it. You have to brush and floss for her."

"Got it."

"Oh, and she hates her sandwiches cut into squares, you have to make—"

"Triangles. Lex, I know Nicole pretty well."

Lex frowned and glanced over at his daughter. "You know, I don't know what I was thinking, I'm not going to leave her for the _whole_ weekend. I'll come back tomorrow—"

"Lex." Clark put a hand on his arm. "We're going to be fine. Enjoy the time with Anna. You've earned a break."

Lex winced, then looked back up at Clark and nodded. He knelt down and beckoned Nicole over. She ran into his arms.

"Bye Daddy!"

He held onto her tightly, then let her go, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear and kissing her cheek. "I love you, Nikki."

"Love you too Daddy! _Byye!_ "

Clark picked up Nicole, and Lex walked Anastasia back to their car.

Nicole turned toward Clark. "Make me fy! Again!"

* * *

Clark regularly wondered how Lex and Anastasia survived without superhuman endurance. Even Clark himself was almost getting tired, though it was more of a mental fatigue.

After Nicole had demanded that Clark make her fly for almost a half an hour, she'd wanted to play the box game. She'd search for items around the house and put them into a cardboard box, then make Clark use his X-Ray vision to guess what was inside. Sometimes, he got the answer wrong on purpose just to make her giggle, but after over thirty rounds of the game, he was running out of ideas for wrong guesses.

Then she wanted him to juggle furniture. He was careful, but he still made sure his parents didn't see him do it. Just because Clark was twenty-two and had graduated from college didn't mean his dad would hesitate to give him a serious lecture.

His mom sat everyone down for dinner. Both of Clark's parents coddled their only granddaughter, giving her as much extra rice and ketchup as she wanted, and it was down to Clark to try to force her to eat her peas. He wouldn't have bothered with it, but he knew Lex would ask, so he promised her ice cream after dinner if she ate everything. That didn't always work, but it did today.

After dinner, he rummaged around the pantry for cones and the freezer for ice cream. They had a half a tub of chocolate. He made sure to fill the cone before putting a small scoop over the top, then he showed it to her. "Does that look good?"

" _Big_ ice ceam! Pese?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I dunno."

" _Pity_ pese?" She clasped her tiny hands.

"That's already a lot of ice cream for someone who's only three."

She pouted. "Tree an a _hass_."

"Ah, well, I stand corrected." He couldn't resist that look. He scooped a little more ice cream onto the cone and handed it down to her.

"Yay!" She sat down on the floor of the kitchen and licked happily.

Clark made himself an ice cream cone as well, being careful not to give himself any more than he'd given her—he learned that one the hard way last time. If he wanted more, he would have to wait until after she fell asleep. He probably would—he had earned it.

He was worried that the sugar would keep her from falling asleep, but she only got through half of the scoop on top before her eyelids fell to half mast and she dropped the remainder of the ice cream cone onto the floor.

Clark let his mom take care of changing Nicole into her pajamas while he cleaned up the ice cream, but he brushed her teeth for her, and he flossed her as well. She hated flossing. She stalled by continuing to brush her teeth with water, and she tried to talk him out of it with big, watery eyes, but Clark held firm.

He sat beside her in what used to be Lex's bed and read her a bedtime story. When he finished the story, he kissed her on the forehead and turned to stand. "Now it's time to go to sleep. I'll turn on your music and—"

"Noo, nutter tory." She gripped onto his arm.

"No, your dad said 7:30."

"Pity _pese_ Uncle Cark?" She batted her eyelashes.

Clark sighed. The girl knew what she wanted and knew how to get it. She definitely took after her dad. " _One_ more."

One more story turned into three more stories, one cup of water turned into two, and a trip to the bathroom turned into a last kiss and cuddle from Nana and Papa, who pulled her away to the couch to read yet another story, but Nicole finally let Clark tuck her under the covers at 7:55. Clark didn't bother with setting a timer for himself to come back up and turn off the music; she fell asleep almost instantly once she actually settled down.

He plunked down on the couch beside his dad, letting his breath out. "Was I ever that exhausting?"

His dad chuckled. "Clark, you think that's bad, try dealing with a child with _superpowers._ "

* * *

The next morning, Clark tried to wake up before Nicole to get through the chores before she arrived, but she was already awake and toddling around in the living room. He was lucky, though—she hadn't gotten into anything other than the cereal, and he managed to pluck the box from her hands just as she was about to pour it onto the floor.

"Uncle Cark! Aw by myseff!"

"I know, but I'm gonna help you pour your cereal."

"No, _look!_ Aw by myseff!"

He took another look at her, and realized she'd gotten changed out of her pajamas. Her shirt was backwards and her shorts were inside out. He decided against bothering with that. "Oh, good work!"

"I'm _big_."

"Yes you are." Clark scooped her up into his arms and tickled her until she was screaming and laughing, then put her down at a chair at the table and poured some cereal and milk for both of them.

After they finished eating, he took her out to play outside. She had a stuffed ball that she liked to use to play catch, but today she wanted to race. That was easier for Clark than a lot of activities—he just had to run slow enough to let her win.

"Go _fast_ , Uncle Cark," she said.

He shrugged and decided it wouldn't hurt to show off a little. He ran to the edge of the field and back.

He was gone for less than three seconds, but apparently she'd tried to follow him, and she'd tripped. Her lower lip trembled, and she hugged her knee to her chest.

"Oh no." He crouched down in front of her and peeked at her knee—it was skinned and starting to bleed. Lex was going to _kill_ him.

"Ow," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, and then she started yelling, " _Oww!_ "

"Okay, okay." Clark super-sped into the house and came back with a first aid kit. "Let me see it."

" _Don't touch it!_ "

"I have to clean it so I can give you a band-aid."

" _Noo!_ "

"This will be really quick, Nicole, I promise. Then I'll make you fly as long as you want."

"W-want M-mommy an Daddy-y-y," she sobbed.

Clark was worse than dead. He gently cleaned the scrape with an antiseptic wipe—she never stopped crying—and then put a band-aid over it. "Is that better?"

"I want _Mommy an Daddyyyy_."

Clark swallowed hard. "I know." He picked her up into his arms and held her tightly, careful to touch her knee as little as possible. He rocked her gently and even hummed a little—he'd seen Lex do that when she was a baby—until her crying calmed.

He reached over to the first aid kit and found a pack of tissues, which he used to help her clean her face and blow her nose, then he let her down onto the ground. She whimpered and toddled away, limping a little. "Get Mommy an Daddy?"

Clark had to distract her. "They'll be home before you know it. Wanna go see your daddy's horse?"

Nicole nodded, sniffling. "Kay."

He reached down his hand, and she clung onto two fingers as he walked her into the barn.

"Onnist!" Nicole let go of Clark's fingers and ran toward the horse. She reached up to pet Onyx's nose, and Onyx nuzzled her little hand while she giggled. Nicole looked up at Clark. "Sugar?"

Clark shook his head—he hadn't picked up any sugar cubes from the kitchen, and he wasn't leaving her alone again, no matter how quick he might be. "Not today."

She stuck out her lower lip at the horse, patting her nose. "Sad Onnist. No sugar for Onnist. Sooo hungry."

Clark resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Manipulative little Luthor. He glanced around the barn and found a few apples. "Here," he said, handing one down to her. "Hold this up, keep your hand very flat."

She grinned and took the apple, laughing as Onyx licked it up from her hand. "Aw better."

They spent the rest of the afternoon visiting with the different animals. Clark was thankful she didn't try to press his hand to give treats to all of them, since some of their diets were more strict than others. She begged to ride Onyx, but Clark didn't budge on that one. He knew he could keep her safe, but he also knew Lex would want to be there for his daughter's first horseback ride.

It was a long negotiation to get her to eat her carrot sticks at lunchtime, and she stalled even longer on her nap than she had for bedtime the night before, but she didn't complain about missing her parents anymore, which Clark took as a win. He managed to get a short break in while she was sleeping, and his parents took over entertaining her for a few hours in the early afternoon so he could rest. He wasn't physically tired, but his powers didn't help much with the mental exhaustion.

They played games throughout the later afternoon. Nicole somehow managed to beat Clark at Go Fish so many times, he was almost tempted to use his X-Ray vision to salvage some of his pride.

Clark was luckier that evening. He didn't end up having to fight Nicole to go to sleep. He brushed and flossed her teeth and let her change into pajamas before putting on a kids' movie for her. She snuggled on his lap, and he gently stroked her hair—something else he'd seen Lex do—until she leaned back on his chest and fell asleep.

Clark, too, was asleep before the movie ended.

* * *

The next day, Lex and Anastasia arrived back at the farm two hours ahead of schedule. They both completely ignored Clark and his parents and went straight to Nicole, but no one was offended. Anastasia spun her daughter in the air before hugging her tightly, grinning ear to ear. Lex beamed at Nicole when she toddled over to him, but when he held her, his smile melted into a look of protective ferocity.

Anastasia went to get her into the carseat while Lex talked to Clark.

"No problems?"

"She's a master negotiator when it comes to bedtime—"

"That's my girl."

"—but she's a good kid, Lex. You're doing a good job with her."

Lex nodded. "Brushed and flossed?"

"Yes."

"She ate everything you asked her to?"

"Yeah."

"No other issues? No reason you should have called us?"

"Everything was fine, Lex."

Lex nodded, glanced at the car, then looked back at Clark with a deadly glare. "Then why is she wearing a band-aid?"


	5. Five romances that didn't work out (and one that did)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any ships I sink—it's less about my personal preferences and more about what I think would be realistic for this AU. Also, there's a bit in this that refers to chapter 15 of "Raising a Mutant."
> 
> Thanks goes to BenRG for the idea for the first two of this set.

_1_

It was weirdly tense and quiet at the dinner table. Lex sat staring at his food, poking at it with his fork but never actually eating. Clark was eating, but he kept looking up at Lex whenever his mouth wasn't full, giggling under his breath.

Martha had gotten the sense Lex had been hiding something for a few days, maybe even a couple of weeks, but she didn't want to press him. He had only been living with them for six months; he wasn't ready to come clean about everything in his life, and that was okay.

When Clark stopped eating altogether in favor of giggling, Jonathan finally cleared his throat. "You got something to share, son?"

"Ask Lex, not me." The grin never left Clark's face.

"Shut _up_ ," Lex muttered to Clark.

"Hey." Jonathan's tone was a little sharper than Martha herself would have used. "You don't speak to your little brother that way."

Lex hung his head. "Sorry, sir," he whispered.

Martha gently patted Lex's arm and looked over at Clark. "What's so funny, young man?"

"I said. Ask Lex."

" _Clark,_ " Martha chided.

Clark looked right at Lex. "Or you could ask _Mercy Graves_."

"Shut _up!_ " Lex's face turned bright red.

" _Lex!_ " Jonathan yelled.

"Sorry, Jonathan. Clark, drop it, okay?"

Martha bit back her questions. She'd heard the name Mercy Graves before, in school news bulletins. Mercy was at the top of Smallville Middle School's athletics departments. Martha was pretty sure she was the same age as Lex.

Clark laughed again. He leaned toward Lex and mumbled in a singsong voice, so quiet Martha almost couldn't hear it, "—sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S—"

"Clark, I _said_ drop it!" Lex pushed back his chair and stormed away.

"Hey, _hey!_ " Jonathan called. "I did _not_ excuse you from the table."

"Lex, meet me in the living room," Martha said.

" _Martha._ " Jonathan glared.

She gave him a pointed look and went to meet Lex, who was faced away from her with her arms crossed.

"Hey," she said softly.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Martha was quiet for a moment, considering her next words carefully. "You know, someday, Clark's going to be in middle school, and he's going to start having crushes on girls."

"I don't have a crush on Mercy." It came out too fast, like it was a practiced sentence.

She took a step closer. "Oh, I know you don't. I'm just saying, don't take it too hard if Clark teases you and thinks you like someone. He doesn't understand right now, but someday he will. You'll get your chance to tease him back someday."

"I don't have a crush on anyone."

"It's okay if you do."

"I don't."

"Okay."

Lex was quiet for a long time before he turned to look at her. "But if I ever _did_ have a crush on a girl—like, someone else, not Mercy . . ."

"You can always talk to me about it. I'll give you advice if you need it, but I won't judge you, and I'll do my best not to embarrass you in front of her."

He nodded. "Thanks, Martha."

"Mercy's cute."

"Ugh, _Martha!_ "

She held back her laugh and nodded back toward the kitchen table.

* * *

_2_

"Wrong direction, little brother."

Clark jumped up from his telescope. "What?"

Lex smirked. He'd lost track of some things while he'd been away at college. "Lana Lang, huh?"

Clark lowered his head. "Since first grade."

"First grade. Really."

"Yeah. I turn into an idiot around her. I actually tripped and fell right in front of her the other day—have you ever seen me trip?"

"No, I guess not." Lex was pretty sure that had more to do with the meteor rock necklace. Clark seemed to get sick around the stuff.

"I, uh . . . I think I'm in love with her."

"Wow. Do Mom and Dad know?" Lex had taken to calling Jonathan and Martha _Dad_ and _Mom_ when he was talking to Clark, even though he still addressed them by name to their faces.

"I didn't . . . _tell_ them, exactly."

 _So, yes_. "They won't embarrass you."

"Really?"

Lex shrugged. "They didn't embarrass me when I was your age. You know who did, though?"

"Who?"

"You."

Clark's head fell back. "Are you talking about when I caught you kissing Mercy and teased you at the dinner table?"

"Payback time, little brother."

"I was six!"

"Mom said you weren't old enough to understand, but _apparently_ you were, because you were already in _love._ "

He groaned. " _Le-ex!_ "

"Oh, I'm not gonna say anything in front of Lana. Though I should tell you, I make a great wingman. I bet I could get her to look twice. What do you say?"

" _Don't_."

Lex held up his hands. "Fine, fine. I'll stay away from her, and I won't embarrass you in public. But at home?" He grinned.

Clark rolled his eyes. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this, am I?"

"Nope." Lex went over to the telescope and angled it toward the sky. "In the meantime, eyes up, Clark. She's a person, not a carnival show."

* * *

_3_

Clark had never been with anyone like Kyla Willowbrook before. She was older than him, she knew who and what he was, and she liked him. Really liked him.

In the end, that was the problem.

The fact that she was a skinwalker wasn't a deal breaker. They had a long talk about it when she got out of the hospital—Clark was thankful for Lex having drilled him on emergency procedures as soon as he started saving people regularly, or she might have bled out in his arms—and they were able to get back together. For a little while.

It didn't feel like a relationship. Not like a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, anyway. It felt more like she was a fan and he was a celebrity, or like she worshipped him as a god. The final straw was when she wouldn't stop calling him Naman.

He felt terrible for weeks after he broke things off.

* * *

_4_

Jonathan was at the hospital for a minor farm injury. Well, _he_ thought it was minor, but a broken leg was the kind of thing that tended to make Martha freak out a little bit.

Against orders, he was limping down the hall back to the waiting room when he passed by Lex, dressed in scrubs and carrying a clipboard.

Jonathan blinked a couple of times—Lex was difficult to mistake, but Jonathan really hadn't been expecting to see his son here. Lex was home for the summer, though he didn't spend much time at the house; Jonathan knew he had friends and other things to do, but he had no idea Lex was working at the hospital.

"Lex? What are you doing here?"

His face reddened slightly, and he shook his head.

Jonathan took a step closer. "Son?"

"Volunteering. A little."

"I didn't know you were interested in the medical field," Jonathan said. Lex was majoring in business.

"I'm not. There's, ah . . . this medical resident who works here . . ."

Jonathan smiled. He should have known. "Name?"

Lex's voice was barely a whisper. "Helen Bryce."

"Pretty?"

Lex nodded, and his gaze wandered off into space. "It's a long shot. She's out of my league."

Jonathan doubted that. Lex had grown up to be a handsome young man—if anything, the baldness enhanced it. Aside from that, he was too smart for his own good, he worked hard, he truly cared about others, and he could be quite charming when he wanted to be.

Lex shrugged. "I think it's gonna take a guy with money to win her over. Still—" he gestured to the scrubs— "giving it my best try."

"Good luck, son. Let me know if you ever want to talk about her." Jonathan clapped Lex on the shoulder and continued to hobble toward the exit.

That was the first and last time Jonathan ever heard about Helen Bryce.

* * *

_5_

The new girl who had come to stay with the Kents stayed in Lex's old room and messed with his stuff. She was presumptuous with his parents, rude to Clark, and prejudiced enough about the Luthor name that she actually stood out even as compared with other people in town.

But none of that was Lex's problem with her. His problem was that he recognized her.

He caught her alone one late morning after Clark had left for school, in the wake of one of her 45-minute showers that forced Lex to find sneaky ways to help his parents with the water bill. He caught her off guard as she was heading from one room into another.

"We've met before, you know."

She gasped and whirled around to face him. "Lex, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"July, 1993."

"What?"

"The playground at Smallville Elementary School."

"1993?"

"You don't remember, but I do."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"There was a boy at the park, waiting in line for a swing. You cut in front of him."

" _What?_ "

"Do you deny it, Lois?"

"That was eleven years ago, I don't even _remember_ it."

"He was a good kid. And you made him cry."

"What, was it you? No, you're a lot older than I was. Who was it?"

"Believe me, if it was me, we wouldn't have any problems here."

Lois sighed. "Clark, then. What do you want, an apology?"

"I let you go that day. Figured you were young, you didn't know any better."

She shook her head, her breath catching in her throat. "And you've held this grudge all these years? _Seriously,_ Lex?"

"Had you given me _any_ reason to believe you've changed in the years since then, I would never have said a word about it. As it is . . ." He mustered all the gravitas he could from what little Lionel had taught him: "Lay off my brother. Show a little gratitude to my parents and some respect for their home. And leave me alone. I'm a Kent, but I kept the Luthor name for more than one reason. Testing me would be ill-advised."

Lois blinked a few times, her mouth opening and closing a few times as if she was trying and failing to figure out what to say. Finally, she stormed off.

She was packed up and gone within a couple of days.

* * *

_+1_

Martha took a few minutes on her own to touch up her makeup and dab away the sweat. In the hectic early stages of establishing his new business, Lex hadn't been around for Sunday dinner in over a month. Martha would have to admit she had probably gone overboard with the dinner she had planned, but she was overjoyed to be having her family all together again.

She came back into the kitchen, and they were just sitting down to dinner when Lex's cell phone started to ring. He glanced down at it before apologizing to Martha. "I'm sorry, I have to get this."

"It's okay, sweetie, do what you need to do." She was already so overflowing with pride for him, she couldn't imagine having been upset, though Jonathan was already grumbling something about Lex taking work calls during family time.

When Lex returned to the table, his cheeks were a little flushed. "My apologies. I've been working with an accountant from an allied company, just needed to go over a few details."

"Oh!" Jonathan blinked. "An accountant friend of mine started doing some freelance work recently. Maybe the same guy? What's his name?"

Lex shook his head. "It's a she. And Anastasia doesn't do freelance work."

Martha didn't often have hunches. She'd had one out in that cornfield when she first met Clark; she'd had another in the police station where she'd first seen Lex; and of course, one on her college campus when she first laid eyes on Jonathan. But there was something in the way Lex said the woman's name, something so subtle she was sure Jonathan and Clark hadn't picked up on it. Something only a mother could see. She was absolutely certain he had just spoken the name of her future daughter-in-law.

She swallowed her thrill and forced herself to remain casual. "Well, shall we dish up?"


	6. The Scarecrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan finds Lex tied to a stake in a cornfield in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For jakrar, who gives me more of the ideas for these stories than I care to admit (and I'm just thrilled to be the one she gives them to)

_October, 1994 (Lex is 14, Clark is 7)_

With the start of Lex's freshman year at Smallville High came more freedom for him, in addition to more rules. He was allowed to hang out with friends or in the library at the school for up to an hour after school ended, but he had to make prior arrangements if he was going to take any longer getting home. He was allowed to go out in the evenings, but only if his homework was done, his room was clean, his chores were finished, and Onyx was taken care of.

The most important rule, though, was that he had to be home by ten unless there was a school event or sleepover he'd gotten permission to attend. The curfew would raise to eleven when he turned sixteen, and to midnight if he was still living with them at eighteen. Jonathan made it very clear that missing curfew without permission was grounds for a hard lecture and a long, strict period of restriction. Lex didn't seem to have any problems with it at the time.

On the day of homecoming, Lex never came home from school at all.

At first, Martha was the one who was concerned. "He said he didn't want to participate in homecoming."

"Well, maybe some of his friends changed his mind." Jonathan was glad for that—the kid could be a bit uptight.

"I don't know, honey. He's been having a hard time making friends, and the few he has don't really seem like the type to be into it."

"Trust me, sweetheart. He's absolutely fine. I bet we'll see him at the game tonight."

They didn't see him at the game. Jonathan still wasn't worried about it—the stadium was big enough that it was hard to pick out anyone—but Martha barely watched the field, constantly scanning the bleachers and gripping onto Clark on her lap, tight enough that it would have hurt him if he had been any other kid.

She was still scanning the passing faces as they walked to the car. "I don't see him, Jonathan."

"He probably blended right into a crowd of other teenagers."

"He stands out."

"Not when he's wearing his hat." Lex had taken to doing that whenever he was around other kids his age—Jonathan was thankful that the teachers at the high school were understanding about it.

"What if he _wasn't_ there?"

Jonathan sighed. "Then he's at a friend's house getting ready for the dance. He should have asked us permission, but he probably knew we would figure it out."

"I don't like it."

"We'll talk to him about it. But this is the first time he's done this. I don't think there's any need to overreact."

* * *

Jonathan had completely changed his tune by 11:30. The dance had ended at eleven, and there was no sign of Lex.

Martha paced in the living room, wringing her hands. "Jonathan, what if something happened?"

"Something did happen. He defied us, that's what. He's testing us, you know. You know what my father would've done to me if I pulled something like this, he'd have—"

"You're _not_ making our son cut a switch."

"No, I know." Jonathan's face felt warm. "But he's grounded for at least a month."

Martha frowned. "That's harsh."

"He's making his mother worry about him. That's unacceptable."

"Can we revisit punishment when we know whether he's safe?"

Jonathan forced himself to take a deep breath. He went over to grab his jacket. "I'm gonna find him. Trust me, Martha, he's at a house party with some kid whose parents made the mistake of going out of town on Homecoming weekend. God help him if he's been drinking."

He gave Martha a quick kiss before heading out to get in his truck and driving toward the school.

Jonathan drove past a cornfield on the way to the school, and his mind flashed back.

He swallowed hard—it couldn't be, could it? It was one freshman out of hundreds each year, and Lex . . .

 _Oh, no_.

Jonathan turned the truck around and drove to Reilly's field. He pulled up to the edge, took a flashlight out of the backseat, and began to search through the cornfield.

"Lex?" he called.

A very weak voice answered back: "Help me."

Jonathan ran toward the voice. He reached a clearing and shone his flashlight up at the figure hanging from the post. Lex's eyes were half-closed, he was badly bruised and bleeding in several places, and the bright red _S_ stood in stark contrast to his nearly-blue skin.

"Oh, no." Jonathan dropped the flashlight and rushed forward to untie his son. It must have been hours since he was hung there, and it was freezing outside—Jonathan could see his own breath. "Hang in there, Lex."

His eyes fluttered open. "Jon'thn. I missed curfew."

Jonathan almost laughed, though he didn't smile at all. He untied Lex's feet first, then he wasn't sure how to proceed—if he untied his arms, Lex would fall to the ground. Finally, Jonathan mustered his strength and lifted the whole pole with his son on it, laying it down gently so Lex was on his back before untying the ropes and pulling Lex's arms away from the pole.

Lex winced as he was adjusted, and shouted aloud when Jonathan tried to move his arms. "Sorry, son, this is gonna hurt." Jonathan slowly moved Lex's arms back to his sides.

Lex hissed, and his eyes filled with tears. " _O-ow_."

Jonathan was going to kill whoever did this to his son.

He swallowed his anger for the time being—it wouldn't help. "Can you walk?" Jonathan helped the boy to stand, but Lex kept tripping over his own feet. He wasn't even shivering. That was a bad sign. Jonathan had learned more than he'd ever wanted to about hypothermia in his senior year, the year he'd passively gone alone with his friends when they'd played the prank on some poor freshman. The main perpetrators' families had ended up covering the poor kid's medical bills, and Jonathan's father had made him learn about exactly what was happening to the boy they'd strung up, in addition to the other punishments Jonathan had had to endure. It had been one of the worst weeks of his life.

In the end, Jonathan ended up carrying Lex back to the truck. He sat him down in the passenger's seat, turned on the car to get the heater blowing, and went back into the field to find Lex's clothes.

When Jonathan returned to the truck, he found that Lex had turned off the heat in favor of cold air instead.

"No, no." Jonathan changed it back. "You need to warm up."

"Iss too hot."

Jonathan grimaced. He wished he'd brought a thermos of hot chocolate—hypothermia was often easier to treat from the inside than through warming the skin—but he couldn't have known this was going to happen. Though of course, he should have known. He should have considered this hours ago, as soon as Lex didn't come home from school. Most of the time, though, he tried to block the whole scarecrow incident out of his mind. He never would have considered that the tradition might have lasted another generation.

Jonathan tried to help Lex put his shirt back on, but the boy cried out in pain every time Jonathan adjusted one of his arms—the way he'd been hanging must have been absolute torture. Finally, Jonathan took off his own jacket, draped it over Lex's shoulders, and zipped it up with Lex's arms tucked inside. Lex struggled for a moment, then nestled back into the seat, eyes falling closed. Jonathan swallowed hard, leaned over to give his son a light kiss on the forehead, and drove straight to the hospital.

* * *

Over the next few hours, Jonathan divided his time between the hospital room where Lex was being treated, and a little waiting room with a phone, where Martha drilled him with questions about what had happened. He was thankful she didn't lay any guilt or I-told-you-so's on him—he was already feeling guilty enough. She wanted to come to the hospital, but Jonathan had the truck, and neither of them wanted him to leave Lex alone to go pick her up.

Jonathan made himself put on a stoic face as Lex was subjected to a breathing mask, chest tubes, and an IV. His temperature wasn't rising, and the doctors were starting to talk about the possibility of using dialysis to warm his blood. But they didn't end up needing to—after a couple of intensive hours of care, he was warm enough that they were able to give him cold compresses for his wounds, though they said the strained muscles in his shoulders could take weeks or even months to heal completely.

At four in the morning, the doctor told Jonathan that Lex was stable, but he needed to stay for the next twenty-four hours to be monitored. Jonathan went into his hospital room to say good night to his son, and to let him know he was going to go pick up Martha. Lex sat on the bed edge of the bed, his shirt draped over his pillow. He stared down at his chest, where the red S had barely faded. He was trying to wipe it away with a wet paper towel, but he hadn't made any progress—Jonathan figured his arms were too weak for him to put any muscle into it.

"Hey." Jonathan sat beside him and held out his hand for the paper towel. Lex handed it over to him, and Jonathan carefully cleaned away as much of the paint as he could before helping him get his shirt back on.

When Jonathan looked up at his son, Lex's eyes were shining. "Kids at school, they hate me."

"No, no. They don't hate you, son."

"My core temperature was 83. The doctors said I was lucky. If you'd waited 'til morning . . ." A tear streaked down Lex's cheek. "Those guys wanted me dead, Jonathan."

Jonathan had never felt such a heavy guilt in his life. "No. I guarantee you, they didn't. They thought they were pulling a prank. They don't know any better."

"They beat me up. And they kept . . . taking my hat off so they could laugh at me and slap me. Then they'd put it back on just so they could take it off again."

Jonathan said nothing. He still couldn't believe he'd allowed the same thing all those years ago. He had never been so tempted to kill anyone in his life.

"They're right about me, though." Lex looked away, jaw pulsing. "I'm a Luthor."

Jonathan set aside the paper towel and reached out to cradle Lex's face in his hand, looking him right in the eyes. "You're _my_ son. Do you hear me?"

Lex nodded, though a fresh set of tears rolled down his face.

Jonathan pulled his beloved child into his arms, his own eyes stinging. "You're my son," he whispered, rocking him slightly. "I love you so much."

A quiet sob escaped from the boy, and Jonathan held him tighter.

A light knock on the door—Jonathan glanced up. Martha stood in the doorway carrying Clark. Jonathan gave Lex a couple of pats on the back and stood to greet them.

" _Lex!_ " Clark jumped down from his mother's arms and launched into Lex's lap, wrapping his arms around Lex's waist. "I'll warm you up! Are you cold?"

"No, I . . ." Lex looked down at Clark, who was snuggling his head into Lex's neck. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I _am_ cold." Lex wrapped his arms lightly around his little brother, and Clark tightened his grip.

Jonathan pulled Martha into his arms, and she reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "Abigail Ross gave us a ride," she said, answering the unspoken question. "Apparently her oldest son was in on the prank. Is Lex okay?"

They glanced toward the hospital bed, where Clark was instructing Lex to lay down so he could put the blankets over him. At the last second, he crawled under the covers with Lex, nestled against his side. "I have to keep you warm," he explained, and Lex laughed.

"I think he's okay," Jonathan whispered.

Martha went over to kiss each of her boys, then she left the room. Jonathan glanced back at his sons one more time before following her. Clark was already asleep, one hand lightly clinging to Lex's shoulder. Lex lay on his side, eyes fixed on his little brother, tears streaming down his face. He gently brushed Clark's hair aside and kissed his forehead.

Jonathan swallowed back a hard lump in his throat and flicked off the light.


	7. Off at College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex goes off to college, and 11-year-old Clark misses him so badly he starts to act up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By guest request.
> 
> This will be my last update on this story for a month or two. I still have LOTS of chapter ideas for this world, and I'll get around to all (most?) of your requests, but I'm a bit overwhelmed by my current projects, and I'm preparing for a book release this summer. (And also, on a more personal note, I'm working on getting licensed to adopt kids! Which was definitely a lot of the inspiration for "Raising a Mutant.")

_November, 1998 (Clark is 11, Lex is 18)_

Clark helped his mom throw a small party when Lex first got his acceptance letter to Metropolis University. He bragged to all of his friends at school that his older brother was going to college on a full merit scholarship, he tagged along on all of the trips to pick up things for Lex's dorm, and he sat in the middle seat to be closer to his older brother for the whole trip up to drop Lex off at the school—something he hadn't done in a long time, now that he was eleven and Lex was eighteen.

It was quiet on the way back from Metropolis. Then it was quiet in the house.

Lex hadn't even talked all that much. But Clark talked _to_ Lex constantly. Lex helped him with his school work, and their dad assigned chores to them out on the farm and gave instructions for how to divide up the work, or they all talked and laughed. Clark didn't really need instructions, and he wasn't in a joking mood, so they mostly worked in silence. Even at the dinner table, Clark felt too miserable about the empty seat across from him to make much conversation.

For the first few weeks of the school year, Lex called almost every day. Clark took to doing his homework right next to the phone and procrastinating on chores for as long as possible. Over time, though, the calls became fewer and further between.

Worse, Clark had to pick up extra chores because Lex was gone. His dad claimed that that wasn't the reason, that it was because Clark was older and had more command over his powers, so he could handle more responsibility.

"It's not _fair,_ " Clark whined. "I'm in middle school now, I have more homework."

"That's true. You're going to have to have better time management. It's part of growing up."

"I just have to do extra because _you_ need more help."

"Well, you're not wrong, Clark. I do need you. _That's_ part of being in a family."

Clark just groaned and cut as many corners on his chores as he could. A couple of times, his dad made him redo the work, but Clark refused to speak to him for the rest of the day when he did that.

It wasn't just the chores. Aside from having more homework now that he was in middle school, Clark's homework took longer than ever without Lex's help. He eventually started skipping it and lying to his parents when they asked if he'd finished his schoolwork. He hid his first quarter report card when it came out; he heard Lex had tried that once, and it hadn't worked out for him, but Lex didn't have powers. Clark had a much easier time sneaking it away.

One evening after dinner, Clark was sitting in front of the TV. He liked it there; it distracted him from the silence that always filled the house. When his mom called him over to help dry the dishes, he just didn't move. He pretended he didn't hear her, and turned up the TV a little louder.

He got unlucky. His dad came in right then.

"Clark, did you hear what your mother said?"

Clark groaned and turned down the TV a little. "That's Lex's chore. Why should I have to do it?"

"Because your mother asked you to. Why should _she_ have to do it?"

Clark jumped up from his seat. Enough was enough. "Because you keep piling everything on me just because I have powers!"

Jonathan took a step closer. "That's not true, son—"

"I'm nothing but a piece of farming equipment to you. If I ran away, this whole farm would collapse."

"Your powers come with added responsibility."

"I didn't choose this!"

"Enough stalling, son. Go help your mother with the dishes."

"No."

"Clark, you're about three seconds away from being grounded."

Clark crossed his arms. "How are you gonna ground me? You can't stop me from going out."

His mom stormed into the living room. "Clark! How could you speak to your father like that?"

"Lay off, Mom, you're just as bad as he is."

" _Clark!_ " his dad yelled.

His mom came to put a hand on his shoulder. "Sweetie, I know this is about Lex—"

Clark pulled his arm away. " _Oh,_ so you do remember him. Your other son. Who used to live here."

"Clark, we miss him, too. But—"

The phone rang, and it was silent.

Clark took a step toward the kitchen, but his dad barked, " _Stop_. Let your mother get it." Clark rolled his eyes and went back to sit on the couch.

Still fuming, he listened to his mom's side of the conversation. "Hello? . . . Hi, sweetie. How are you? . . . No, no, that's not important. I want to hear how things are for _you_ . . . Ah, you know us too well . . . Yes, that's still going on . . . Well, we had a little miscommunication . . . I know, but— . . . No, I guess not . . . No, he hasn't . . . That's not your job, sweetie . . ." A much longer pause, and she sighed. "Okay. I'll go get him."

His mom came into the living room and handed him the phone. "It's your brother."

Clark's heart skipped. He didn't think about the fact that his mom might have been talking to Lex about what had been happening at home, but now he could explain what was going on. Lex would understand. He'd tell Mom and Dad they were being unreasonable.

Clark put the phone to his ear. "Lex?"

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are, Clark?"

"W-what?"

"You're the son of Jonathan and Martha Kent. They raised you and they took care of you, they fed you and housed you all these years, and for a little while, I had the _privilege_ of living with you. And for the immense price of sharing your parents with me, you got a little of my help with chores and homework. And now I'm gone, and for some God-forsaken reason they actually _miss_ me and they're _hurting,_ and you're treat them like this?"

"It's not like that, Lex! They're making me do all this extra work!"

"Our father works his fingers down to the _bone_ for us. You should have been doing extra work all this time. And what do you have to complain about, Clark? You can use your powers."

"Not for everything," Clark mumbled. "It takes a lot of time."

"What's so damn important that you can't spare a little extra time to help your family?"

Clark glanced up at the TV, which was still going, although quietly. His stomach turned. He suddenly couldn't remember what his aversion had been to helping his dad pick up the slack.

"And what's this about not doing your homework? What the hell, Clark?"

Clark swallowed—he didn't know his parents knew about that. "It's really hard, and you're not here to help me."

"Then go to the tutoring center in the library after school! It's not that complicated!"

"But I miss _you_."

"I miss you too, I think about you all the time, but you know what? I still do my _damn homework_."

Clark flinched. "I'm sorry, Lex, I—"

"Oh, another thing. You've been giving Dad the _silent treatment_ for making you redo chores when you're the one who messed them up in the first place?"

"Ah . . ." Clark winced.

"What are you _thinking,_ Clark?"

"I just . . ." He was breathing in to say it wasn't fair, but he suddenly didn't feel like he had a leg to stand on. His hand holding the phone was shaking.

"Mom and Dad _love_ you. You think they pester you to do your homework because it's fun for them? No, they want to do what's best for you, they want you to have the best you can and _be_ the best you can, and you're treating them like crap for caring about you."

"I'm sorry!" His voice cracked.

"Don't apologize to me, Clark, apologize to Mom and Dad. Go beg for their forgiveness, because God knows, they'll give it to you. But you know what, if they want to punish you, you're gonna let them. You're not gonna make snide remarks about how they can't stop you from going out. You're not gonna whine about the extra chores, and you're _not_ gonna argue if they ground you. You're gonna _take_ it, because they _love_ you, and I would have given anything, absolutely _anything_ for someone to care about me that much when I was your age!"

Clark's eyes stung and overflowed. The past few weeks were coming back to him; he'd been absolutely horrible.

"You're lucky they don't lock you in a room with meteor rocks. That's what Lionel would have done to you if you were his kid. You know what he would have done to me if I showed him the kind of disrespect you're showing Mom and Dad? He would have locked me in a dark closet and made me kneel on uncooked rice for as long as it took to make me start to bleed, and then he wouldn't speak to me for a _week_ after he let me out—"

Clark couldn't hear any of the rest of it. He was shaking with sobs. Slowly, he took the phone away from his ear and hung his head, tears pouring down his face.

His mom took the phone away from him. "Lex? Lex, baby, stop. _Stop_ . . . Sweetie, he's crying . . . Yeah . . . I know you didn't mean to, but— . . . Yeah, I know . . . I know . . . I miss you, too . . . Okay, I will . . . I will, Lex . . . We love you, too. Bye."

Clark wrapped his arms around himself, trembling, and managed to choke out, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . ."

His mom's soft hug enveloped him, then his father's strong arms wrapped around both of them from the other side. "Okay, son," his dad said gently. "Sh, sh. You're okay."

Clark still couldn't stop crying. "I—I really miss h-him."

"I know, baby," his mom said. "We miss him, too."

When Clark could catch his breath, he pulled away, wiped at his eyes, and sniffed. "Am I grounded?"

His mom looked up at his dad, who shook his head. "Not exactly, son. But we're going to need to tighten the rules a little until you get your grades back up."

Clark nodded. "I'm sorry."

His dad squeezed his shoulder. "We forgive you."

Another set of tears rolled down his cheeks. "Mom, c-can I help you with the dishes?"

"Tomorrow," she said. "Your brother wants you to call him back."

Clark nodded and walked back into the kitchen to pick up the phone.

Lex picked up after one ring. "Hi."

"Hey."

Silence for a long time.

"I'm sorry, Clark, I—"

"No, _I'm_ sorry. Thank you, Lex."

"It was too much."

"No, it wasn't."

Silence again.

"I love you, little brother."

The room grew blurry once more, and Clark smiled. "I love you too, Lex."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you in awhile!


	8. Five times Onyx comforted Lex (and one time he comforted her)

_1_

The Kents let Lex stay home from school for a few days after the scarecrow incident. The day he came home from the hospital, he was tired from the hypothermia treatments and sore from the way his arms had been wrenched behind his back, and as embarrassed as he would have been to admit it, he really appreciated the Kents' doting comfort.

He thought he'd get through it, until a friend called to tell him that Mercy was breaking up with him for standing her up at the Homecoming dance. Lex didn't know what to say to that; he thanked his friend for calling and hung up. It wasn't as if Lex could tell Mercy he'd been strung up by the football team. She'd just break up with him for being a loser—better to lose her this way. He just really wished he didn't have to lose her at all.

The worst part was that he couldn't complain about it in front of the Kents, which meant he couldn't count on them for comfort. He'd never actually told them about Mercy. Clark knew—kind of—but Lex didn't want to talk to his seven-year-old brother about getting his heart broken. He knew he could go to his little brother for general comfort and reassurance if he needed it, but right now, Clark was at school, and Lex had had as much of Martha's comfort as his pride could take.

So when Lex was sure Jonathan was busy with outdoor chores, he picked up a couple of sugar cubes and slipped into the barn to see Onyx.

Onyx responded immediately to Lex's presence, as she always did, coming right up to the stall door and reaching toward him with her head. As soon as Lex was close enough, she reached her nose down and sniffed at his pocket and nudged at his hand.

"Here, girl," he said, taking the sugar cubes out of his pocket and holding his hand flat.

She licked up the sugar, then nuzzled the top of his head.

"There you go." He patted her neck, then he opened the stall door and joined her inside. Her head turned toward the brush he usually used on her, but he didn't pick it up. Instead, he wrapped his around her neck and rested his head in her mane. "At least you still like me."

Onyx gently leaned into his embrace.

_2_

Lex stormed into the barn.

"I was only _t_ _wenty minutes_ late!" he muttered under his breath. He grabbed a pitch fork and began to muck out the stalls. He usually took the task slowly and carefully, so as not to startle the animals or pull a muscle, but today he worked hard and fast, until sweat began to drip down the back of his neck.

Most of the horses left in the barn backed away from him. Onyx was the exception. She drew closer, flinching slightly with his jerkier motions, until he finally threw down the pitchfork.

He threw himself onto her side. "They grounded me for _two whole weeks_ , Onyx. Extra chores, too."

He wasn't going to make it to Steve's party. He'd said he would be there, and now he wouldn't be. That was social suicide. He'd spent the whole year since the scarecrow incident fighting to regain social status and fit in, and now he was going to blow that with a single bad move.

And the Kents didn't even _care_. Jonathan had seemed almost _happy_ when Lex had mentioned the party. They were _so mean._

Of course, they hadn't _said_ it in a mean way, and they had warned him he'd be grounded if he missed curfew, and Martha had been really worried last night . . .

"I mean . . . I didn't call them, I guess, and okay, they were worried about me . . . but _two weeks!_ For _twenty minutes!_ "

It just wasn't _fair._ Lex almost considered sneaking out for Steve's party, and he even had a plan halfway formed in his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Jonathan would find out, Lex was absolutely certain of that. And aside from grounding Lex until he was eighteen and forcing him to do chores until his arms and legs fell off, Jonathan would be so, _so_ disappointed, and he'd make Lex listen while he _told_ him all about how disappointed he was. And Martha would be worried and maybe crying—she'd been close by the time he'd gotten home the night before.

"Arrgh . . . I can't even be upset with them. They've been so nice to me, and . . . ugh, I messed up _everything_ . . ."

To Lex's horror, his eyes began to sting. Onyx gently nudged the side of his head with her nose and exhaled.

It hit him then that there was no way to get out of the grounding, and no way to earn their trust back. He sank down onto a chair beside her and dissolved into tears.

Onyx took the couple of steps that separated them and reached down with her head to gently nuzzle the side of his. She stayed there until he was able to calm himself down and wipe his tears away.

"I'll be okay, girl," he whispered, and he kissed her between the eyes.

_3_

For days after Lionel's death, Martha couldn't leave Lex alone for more than a few minutes at a time. She had assumed he would need time alone to grieve. Based on the bits she had gleaned from his stories, he had certainly needed time alone when Lillian passed. But when she left him alone for an hour one afternoon, she came back to find he had torn through the skin around his own fingernails and his fingers were dripping blood. Her seventeen-year-old son needed more supervision than her nine-year-old.

Lex blamed himself for Lionel's death. That much was obvious. Martha didn't completely understand why, though she suspected it had something to do with the last visit they'd had—which Lex still wouldn't talk about. He alternated between dead silence, hysterics, fits of rage, long episodes of deep self-deprecation, and once or twice, hallucinations. He also had night terrors so bad that she made him sleep on the couch in the living room, and she slept on the arm chair beside him. It was a role she'd had to play a few times when his father was first imprisoned, but she had hoped those days were behind them.

She sewed and read in his bedroom while he read or studied at his desk, she had him help her in the kitchen (though she kept the knives away from him), and she worked in the living room while he lay on the couch. From time to time she passed him off to Clark, who would try and fail to play with him or make conversation, or to Jonathan, who was quick with a word of wisdom—admittedly, often cliché and trite, given the circumstances—that fell upon deaf ears.

By the end of the week, they were all starting to fall behind on farm work and everything else. Lex's teachers were understanding; the farm, not so much. Martha needed to help Jonathan with farm work, and Clark needed to focus on school work—he couldn't help catch up, and they couldn't expect him to make up for the work Lex wasn't doing, even with his powers. One morning, after waking up from another restless night on the armchair, Martha took Lex out to the barn with her so that she could get some chores done.

As soon as they reached the barn, she walked Lex over to Onyx, who came right over to Lex and nudged him repeatedly—not in the hands or pockets, as though she were looking for treats, but in the face, head, and shoulders. Lex stood, taking it without responding, without so much as reaching up to pat the horse's neck.

Martha let go of Lex's hand and stroked Onyx's mane. "Take care of my boy for a minute, okay, girl?"

Onyx paid her no attention. She was absorbed in checking on Lex, whose eyes had filled with tears.

Martha gave her son a quick kiss on the cheek as she passed him—he was taller than she was, now—and went to pick up a pitchfork to clean out the other stalls.

When she returned to the stall, she found Lex curled up on a pile of hay in the corner. Onyx lay beside him; his face was buried in the underside of her neck. Martha smiled and took a step toward him, but Onyx huffed at her, a warning to stay back. Martha nodded and returned to her work.

_4_

Lex knew Jonathan would be a great person to talk to, about how to ask out the girl he liked. The trouble was, he'd never actually told the Kents he liked her. Or that she existed at all. He couldn't bear the thought of telling them she'd rejected him. And he fully expected she would.

Coming up with the speech to ask her out was proving to be a challenge; he found himself getting up and pacing and muttering the words under his breath every time he tried to plan it.

He had his own apartment, but he also had a roommate, since he still didn't want anyone to know about his money. Duncan was great, but he was also pretty focused. Lex didn't want to bother him by pacing around the apartment. Lex also couldn't use his room back at the Kent house. Clark's super hearing was a pretty big inconvenience.

So he spent some time in the barn when no one else was in there. There, he paced and muttered to his heart's content.

"Anastasia . . . I—we've been talking for a few months now, I was just thinking, maybe sometime, do you wanna . . . _ugh_ , no . . . Look, I really like you, and— _no_. _Stupid._ " Lex went over to Onyx's stall and tapped his forehead against the wood. " _Stupid, stupid._ "

A soft, wet roughness pressed into the top of his head.

" _Augh!_ " Lex jumped back and wiped away Onyx's saliva. "Onyx, that's _gross_."

She just stared at him, looking concerned.

Sighing, he opened the stall door and came inside to pat her neck. "Hey there, girl."

Onyx leaned into him a little.

"Guess you've never had to deal with this sort of thing. I've, ah, set the bar pretty high for myself, in terms of . . . eloquence. But this is giving me grief."

She nudged his hand.

He laughed and took out a sugar cube from his pocket, holding it out to her with a flat hand. "Hm. Wonder if she likes horses."

_5_

Anastasia wasn't much for horses, as it turned out—but Martha Nicole was.

She loved all of the animals, but she ran straight over to Onyx every time they were in the barn, and she snuck her more sugar cubes than she was supposed to be allowed to have. At home, she read picture books about horses and drew pictures of them as best as she could, and, when she started preschool, she picked out a backpack and lunch box covered in horses as well. She begged Lex at least once a week from the time she turned three to let her ride Onyx on her own. He was happy to put his daughter on his back while he rode on the saddle, or to put her in front of him while he rode bare back, but she was his first kid, and he was hesitant to let her ride by herself.

Lex talked with his dad, who had been around horses for longer than Lex had been alive. He seemed to think it would be okay, as long as she wore a helmet, but even with Jonathan Kent's seal of approval, Lex made his baby wait until she was four.

On the day he'd agreed to it, Nicole released herself from her booster seat almost before the car had come to a stop, and she bounded away toward the farm. Lex had to run to catch up with her.

"Hi Onnist! I'm gonna ride you today, okay?"

Lex made himself smile against the worried tightening in his throat. "It's _Onyx_ , Nicole."

"Onnits."

"On _yx_." He emphasized the _x_.

"Onn _isk_."

Nikki was so young. So _tiny_. The saddle would be up at twice her height. "Um, Nikki, are you sure you want—"

"Daddy, you _said._ "

"I did, and I'll keep my word if you're sure. You know that. It's just, I'm happy to sit with you."

"I'm not _three_ anymore."

"I know, but . . . I know you love horses, but they can be a little scary, too."

"Onnist isn't scary. She's the prettiest, nicest-est horsie _ever_."

Lex swallowed hard and looked up at Onyx.

Moving very slowly, Onyx moved her head down to nudge Nicole's dirty blond braids. "Good girl," Nicole said, patting Onyx's nose.

Lex took a deep breath. Nicole could handle this. More importantly, Onyx could.

Onyx remained very, very still as Lex saddled her up and put on Nicole's helmet, and even stiller as he lifted Nicole onto her, remaining close beside her in case his daughter started to lose her balance.

As soon as she was up, Nicole's face lit up in a bright grin. "Daddy, look at me!"

"I'm looking, sweetheart."

Onyx took a couple of very, very slow steps toward the edge of the barn. "I'm on a _horse!_ " Nicole squealed.

"I see you, baby." Lex's throat choked up. He kept one hand on Nicole's knee as they walked, though he knew he didn't need to. He'd never seen Onyx walk so slowly or so smoothly in his entire life.

_+1_

Onyx was tired. So, so tired.

It was the way she usually felt after a long ride, but it had been awhile since anyone had ridden her. Time was she'd only laid down for a couple of hours a night, but one morning, she didn't have the strength to pull herself back up to stand, and she'd been lying down ever since.

Her human—the one they called Lex—came to stay with her for a couple of days, and he barely left her side. These days, Lex didn't come around as often as he used to when he was younger. He'd gotten so much taller since she'd first met him, but his head was always smooth. None of the other humans Onyx knew were like that.

"Hey there, girl." Lex's voice cracked as he sat down on the floor of the barn beside her after taking a quick trip back to the house. "Got something for you."

He held out a sugar cube, but Onyx didn't have the strength to lift her head to take it from him.

"Ah. Sorry." He held it right up to her mouth.

She licked it up happily. She wished she could nuzzle his head like she used to, but she just couldn't muster up the strength.

Lex picked up her brush and swept circles in her side. Her eyes closed halfway. She always loved it when he did that.

"There you go," he said after a few minutes. "Sorry I can't get to the other side of you. I could get Clark in here to roll you over, but I don't want to leave you. Dad says—" His eyes became shiny.

Her human was sad. He needed her comfort. But she couldn't lift her head more than a couple of inches off the ground.

"Ah. Here." He lay down beside her so that her nose was right at the top of his head, and she nuzzled it gently.

"Anastasia called. Nikki sends her love. She wanted to be here, but, ah, she's only nine," he whispered.

Nikki was Lex's tiny human—the one he protected, so Onyx had always been very careful with her.

"She cried when I told her . . . well, she's going to miss you. Maybe even more than I will." He was quiet for a few moments, then he sniffed and spoke again. "Mom thinks we'll see each other again, you and me. I dunno if that's true. But if an animal ever deserved heaven . . ."

Onyx didn't understand what he was saying. But she didn't need to understand him. She just liked his voice.

"I love you, girl." He shifted a little closer to her and put his hand on her neck. "You were good to us."

His hand was nice and warm. Her muscles relaxed, her eyes fell closed, and she went to sleep.


End file.
